Outdoors: Cooking the Catch Completes the Hunt

By NELSON BRYANT

Published: January 14, 1991

TO this hunter at least, the chase and the kill is a farce unless linked with the feast.

Ideally, you should learn to cook your own game birds and animals yourself, just as you should skin and cut up your own deer and pluck your own ducks unless circumstances make it impossible. Taking part in every step of the ritual helps instill a proper reverence for that which has been slain, generates the same intimacy -- impossible to feel at a supermarket counter -- you experience when hauling a brace of turnips from the half-frozen earth of a November garden.

In general, the game you have shot should go into the freezer as soon as possible. Until a few decades ago it was widely believed that a deer should be hung in cooler or woodshed for a week or so, for the meat to become as tender and flavorful as possible before being transformed into steaks, roasts and chops. This approach is perfectly sound if the temperature inside the shed or cooler doesn't get much above the freezing mark, but it isn't necessary. Both venison and beef will age when frozen solid.

When I was a lad, an old hunter down the road hung his ducks by their bills on the north side of his gray-shingled barn. They were ready to eat, he said, when they fell to the ground. As impressionable as I was, I rejected his advice and have always picked and gutted my birds as soon as possible after shooting them. I often do this by the light of a lantern on a table out back of my workshop with a cold wind numbing my fingers and blowing the down across the fields where, for a week or so, it festoons bayberry and beach plum bushes.

Overcooking is the single most common violation of venison and waterfowl. If you are one of those who must have meat cooked until all traces of pink are removed, you had best focus on chickens and pigs. Even those who prefer their beef rare can get some enjoyment from a well-done roast or steak. Not so with venison, which becomes tough and dry when cooked beyond medium rare.

Venison is not, unlike beef, striated with fat. You will often find an exterior layer of fat on venison, however, and all of it should be removed. If it is left on during cooking it produces a badly flavored tallowlike substance. Venison roasts should be liberally larded with salt pork or beef fat. If you don't have a larding needle, make incisions with a knife. A slice of garlic clove should also go into each incision. Several thin strips of salt pork can also be fastened to the top of the roast with toothpicks.

Sprinkle salt, pepper and at least a tablespoon of powdered rosemary, or crushed rosemary leaves, over the roast and put it in a shallow pan to which a cup of beef bouillon has been added. For a rare roast, figure about 15 minutes to the pound at 350 degrees. The roast should be basted several times during cooking and you may want to add another cup of bouillon at some point. Keep the roast warm while making a gravy, thickened with flour, from the pan drippings.

Venison congeals as it cools, so it must be served hot. Heat the plates and the serving platter, herd your guests to the table and carve the roast quickly.

When I cut up a deer, I usually make the steaks from loin or rump about three-quarters of an inch thick and trim all fat from them. One good way to cook such steaks is to dust them with salt and pepper, brush them with bacon fat and put them in a wire grill that is laid directly on glowing hardwood coals in fireplace or wood stove. I like them truly rare, which means about two minutes of cooking on each side. Again, as with venison roasts, they should be served on plates that are hot.

Two exceptions to the rare venison rules are stews and spareribs. Deer ribs are discarded by many hunters, but they are marvelously tasty when barbecued.

Wild ducks also become dry and tough if roasted beyond medium rare. After dusting them with salt and pepper and rubbing them with butter, I fill the body cavities with pieces of apples. I roast birds the size of black ducks or mallards for 15 minutes at 450 degrees. If this is too rare for you and yours, lower the heat to 350 after the first 15 minutes and continue cooking. Don't, however, let the total oven time go much beyond half an hour or you will ruin the bird.

Before the ducks go into the oven, boil their hearts, livers and gizzards in chicken bouillon. When they are cooked through, dice them fine and dump them into the roasting pan after the ducks are taken out. The liquid, bouillon and essence of duck, which are in the pan -- perhaps darkened with a teaspoon of Kitchen Bouquet -- plus the giblets will enhance the flavor of the wild rice that should accompany the repast. You can thicken this gravy with flour if you wish, but it isn't necessary. There are several excellent sweet-sour sauces for wild duck, but a tablespoon of beach plum jelly accompanying each serving of rare breast meat will accomplish the same end. If you are not fortunate enough to have beach plum jelly, currant jelly is an adequate substitute.

Dice two medium-sized onions and three stalks of celery and saute in butter in a large pot. Put the duck carcasses in the pot, add enough water to cover them, plus a half-teaspoon each of thyme and marjoram, a dash of salt and pepper, three thick slices of ginger root and three bay leaves. Simmer, under a lid, until the meat easily separates from the bones. Allow the pot's contents to chill until the fat has congealed on the surface and can be removed. Separate the meat from the bones and discard the latter, plus all pieces of skin and apples. Add two sliced carrots and two sliced parsnips to the pot, plus half a cup of rice and simmer until the rice is done.

Serve with thick chunks of sourdough bread and a tossed salad, and give thanks to the gods of the hunt.